


Worthy, Unworthy

by ChokolatteJedi



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Canonical Character Death, Challenge Response, F/M, Fall Fandom Free For All, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-28
Updated: 2008-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 18:11:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/ChokolatteJedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warnings: Cursing, canonical death, minor timeline changes (Fall of Tom's 7th year instead of Spring of his 5th)</p><p>Made for Pojypojy for the <i>Fall Fandom Free-For-All</i> with the prompt "Unrequited Myrtle (alive!)->Tom Riddle".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worthy, Unworthy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pojypojy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Pojypojy).



Myrtle very carefully looked up from her eggs, glanced past the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables, and covertly swept her gaze down the length of the Slytherin house table. About two thirds of the way down it, she caught sight of him. His shaggy black hair fell around his face as he read a book, seeming oblivious to the food he was wolfing down or to the people talking loudly around him.

_'He must have a test today,'_ Myrtle thought. Always at suppertime, and usually at dinner and breakfast, he would be surrounded by people - lording over them like a dark prince. But occasionally, if he had a test after it, he would spend the meal-time studying. It was that dedication to his studies that had gotten him the Head Boy position.

Myrtle realized that she had been staring and she quickly ducked her head, gazing down at her plate again. She needed to be more careful - if someone caught her staring at Tom Riddle…

Myrtle pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and took a bite of her eggs, daring again to glance up at her tablemates. Most of them were engaged in their own activities; talking, studying, playing cards, and eating. But one Hufflepuff wasn't eating; Olive Hornby was staring - no, glaring - at Myrtle.

Olive was a seventh year, the same as Tom Riddle, and she was a prefect. There had been a rumor around the school last year that Olive had asked Tom Riddle to go on a Hogsmeade weekend with her, but he had turned her down. Myrtle didn't think it was true, because if it was, the other Slytherins would have made fun of Olive all year about it.

She did know for a fact that Olive had really wanted to be the Head Girl, and was mad as anything that the perfect Gryffindor Prefect, Adria Bell, had gotten the position instead. Myrtle had been glad, however, because Adria already had a boyfriend, and wouldn't try to make a move on Tom Riddle. And that was for the best, because Myrtle didn't like competition.

She was only a fourth year, true, but Myrtle had been watching Tom Riddle for most of those four years, and she was sure that she knew everything she needed to know to make him fall in love with her.

She had been worried for a little while, that with all the off things happening around the school, the Winter dance might be canceled. However, Headmaster Dippet had announced the day before that the festivities would continue as planned, "to take their minds off the recent attacks," meaning that all her planning would not be wasted. She would start her wooing a few days before the feast, and by the time she was done, Tom Riddle would be begging to dance with her.

Myrtle's thoughts of being twirled around the dance floor by her dashing Slytherin prince were rudely interrupted by a sharp elbow digging into her back, between her shoulder blades. She looked up in shock and saw Olive Hornby standing above her.

"What?" she asked, hoping that her expression appropriately displayed innocent confusion and not the cunning and lust she was actually feeling.

"Come with me, right now," Olive demanded, her tone soft but venomous.

"What? But why? I have potions next and I-"

"Come outside, with me. Now." Olive interrupted, leaning down so that her face was only a few inches from Myrtle's.

Myrtle resisted the urge to push her glasses up her nose and instead frowned nervously. "Alright, but I really can't be late for potions. I already got in trouble yesterday for being late and Professor Sl-"

"Shut up. Get up. And _walk_!" Olive appeared to be on the verge of throwing a curse, so Myrtle, deciding not to press her luck, stood up and quickly gathered her things. She followed the older girl, the picture of obedience.

Once they were in the corridor, Olive grabbed Myrtle's sleeve and dragged her into a darkened corner. Then she spun around and glared at the younger Hufflepuff. "Stop staring at him," she spat angrily.

"Stop staring at who?" Myrtle asked.

"Tom. Marvolo. Riddle. Stop watching him. Stop following him around. And stop plotting whatever plot you've got planned for the Yule dance. He doesn't care about you, and he never will."

Myrtle ditched her innocent Hufflepuff façade and scowled back at the older girl. "First of all, what makes you think that you know anything about me? Second, I know you're practically an _authority_ on what Tom Riddle _doesn't_ like in a girl, but what makes you think that you know anything about what he likes in a _woman_?"

"Why you little bitch!" Olive whispered furiously, hatred flaring on her face.

"I mean, I'm no _prefect_, like you," Myrtle continued, "but obviously just being one isn't enough to impress the great Tom Riddle. It's not like you're the Head Girl or some-" Her voice broke off as her head snapped to the side with the force of Olive's slap.

Her glasses slid off the end of her nose and she barely heard them skittering across the floor over the sound of her blood pounding in her ears. Myrtle slowly swung her head back around, glaring at the fuzzy shape she knew was Olive's head. Before she could speak, however, Olive slapped her again.

"How dare you speak about him that way you little mudblood bitch!" she hissed, spittle flying and landing on Myrtle's stinging cheek. "Tom is a prince - a _Lord_\- and you think to sully him with your impurities? With your stringy hair and your ugly glasses and your dumpy figure? With your Hufflepuff naïveté and your dirty blood? You think to taint the image of our Lord in that way? Stupid child."

Olive Hornby punctuated her last comment with a rough shove that sent Myrtle falling backwards. She clipped the edge of the wall with her hip and landed heavily on her side, still glaring furiously at the blurry world around her. Myrtle heard Olive stalk off, and heard the crunch of her glasses breaking as the older girl viciously stomped on them.

When she was sure the older girl was gone, Myrtle fumbled for her wand and muttered _"Reparo"_ in the direction she had heard her glasses fall. A few seconds later she flicked her wand again and, with a quiet _"Accio,"_ her glasses plopped gently into her lap.

Making plans to take out her revenge on the older Hufflepuff, slowly and painfully, Myrtle pushed her glasses onto her nose and stood up, shaking out her robes as she did so. She was about to skip Potions completely and head down the stairs to her Common Room, when a soft noise made her glance towards the Great Hall.

Standing just outside the doors to the Great Hall were Tom Riddle and a group of his friends. Haden Avery and Rafer Lestrange were flanking him, and Oleg Dolohov and the Rosier twins finished out the group.

As Myrtle watched, transfixed, Olive appeared from the back of the group and pushed her way through until she was at Tom Riddle's side. He draped an arm over her shoulders and then pulled Mari Rosier against his other side. Both girls were giggling and then Tom Riddle leaned down and kissed Mari.

Myrtle didn't think she had made a noise, but she must have, because Tom Riddle stopped kissing Mari and looked up, right at her. Once he had caught her gaze, Tom Riddle smirked coolly, and then, slowly, eyes still locked with Myrtle's, he leaned over and kissed Olive.

In that moment, Myrtle felt like Tom Riddle was staring right through her, and she through him. He could see how much she loved him and how unworthy she was. She could see how much he would hurt her - how he would use her like he used Mari and Olive. She could see how much he hated - absolutely _despised_ \- her.

So she fled.

Letting her feet guide her, Myrtle ran, up the main staircase, and down a corridor. Up another short flight of stairs and Myrtle threw herself headlong into a room she hoped would be unoccupied.

Slamming and magically locking the door, Myrtle dashed into the nearest toilet cubicle and fell to her knees, heaving what felt like her last ten meals into the porcelain bowl. As tears streamed down her cheeks, Myrtle clutched at her belly, trying to push back the fiery agony of her dry-retching.

Time seemed to pass in agonizingly slow increments, but eventually the spasms eased and the tears slowed. Myrtle leaned against the cubicle wall, panting, with her eyes squeezed tightly shut. She knew it wasn't really possible, but maybe, if she wished for it hard enough, she could squeeze the images - the knowledge - out of her mind.

She wasn't sure how much time passed, but Myrtle was fairly certain that not only could she write off Potions, but most likely Herbology too.

Once she'd stopped retching and crying, she tried to focus her mind on something calming. That had quickly failed and now she was plotting - planning a way to get back at Olive Hornby and Mari Rosier. Both girls would pay for the way they had stolen Tom Riddle from her.

And Tom Riddle himself… she would show him how powerful she truly was, and how right for each other they really were. She was more determined now than ever that she would be the only one by Tom Riddle's side.

Myrtle was so deep in her thoughts that she almost didn't hear the door open. Someone entered the bathroom with quiet, sure, steps, and Myrtle stealthily pulled herself to her feet. If Olive had tracked her down, Myrtle was ready for the older girl with a few choice words and curses that a fourth year probably shouldn't even know _existed_.

To Myrtle's surprise, however, the voice that spoke next wasn't Olive's. It wasn't even _female_. It was male, and though the words it spoke were foreign, it was a voice that Myrtle knew very well.

"Tom?" she opened the cubicle door and looked out, intending to make her first move on the Slytherin Prince.

Instead, she found her gaze met by a pair of huge yellow eyes.


End file.
